


When A Sneeze Is A  Good Thing.

by Rakshi



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-11
Updated: 2011-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-27 05:33:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rakshi/pseuds/Rakshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frodo's a bit under the weather and Sam goes a little overboard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When A Sneeze Is A  Good Thing.

"Sam, dearest," Frodo said patiently. "Please don't fret so. It's simply a cold. I'm fine."

"Your tea needs warming," murmured Sam in response, and as Frodo's eyes rolled heavenward, his cup was snatched and carried off to the kitchen for refilling.

He sighed and glanced about. He was perched amid a veritable sea of pillows, covered in two beautifully quilted comforters, and surrounded by every herbal cold remedy within Sam's considerable knowledge. To his left a cozy fire flickered in the hearth, and to his right an infusion of herbs steeped and steamed, its healing scent permeating the room.

Frodo eyed the infusion. "Is that Athelas?" he wondered, then glanced up as Sam re-entered the room, a steaming teacup in his hands. "Sam, that smells delicious!" he cried, nearly clapping his hands in delight.

"'Tis a bit of elderberry with a smidge of peppermint," Sam announced somewhat proudly, setting the cup on the table next to Frodo's right hand. "It'll clear that cold right fast, you'll see."

"Sam," Frodo said, holding out his hand. "Sit beside me for a moment. You're running yourself ragged caring for me. It's only a cold, Sam. I'm fine."

Sam eyed him dubiously but allowed himself to be pulled down to the stool next to Frodo's chair. "Colds can turn to something worse if they're not cared for, Mister Frodo."

"Where in Middle-earth did you get peppermint at this time of year?" Frodo asked, clasping Sam's hand in both of his. "And is that Athelas in that infusion? Stars above!"

"Well, Mister Frodo, I - umm - I..." Sam stammered, looking a bit red in the face.

"Out with it, Samwise," Frodo insisted. "How did you get these herbs? They're dear in this season."

"I - I promised I'd do chores for the widow Fairbairn if she'd spare me a few sprigs."

"Sam!" Frodo protested!

"'Tis only in the evening for an hour or so, Mister Frodo!" Sam said in a rush. "Just gathering and milking. I'll be back before bedtime."

"I dare say you will!" Frodo said, laughing and pulling Sam closer. "My dearest Sam...," he began.

"No point fussin' about it, Mister Frodo," Sam said firmly, getting what Frodo called the 'Gamgee Stubborn Line' across his brow. "I promised. She gave me the sprigs. And that's an end to it."

"Sam, it's too much!" Frodo continued. "You worry too much. You do too much. And now you'll be doing chores in the evenings instead of relaxing and reading with me? And after you've already put in a full day!"

"A promise is a promise, Mister Frodo," Sam told him. He leaned forward and kissed Frodo's brow, leaning his cheek against it for a moment. "Your fever seems near spent," he murmured kissing Frodo's cheek. "The peppermint, I suspect."

Frodo sighed in resignation. "What am I going to do with you? What will it take to get you to rest a bit instead of constantly fretting over me?" Smiling in mingled amusement and frustration, he reached to caress Sam's cheek--but missed.

Sam had quickly lowered his head and sneezed resoundingly three times in a row. Surprised, he looked up at Frodo. "Oh dear."

Frodo smiled happily. "Eru bless you, dearest Hobbit. Eru bless you."


End file.
